It’s Gonna Be A …

If you don’t want to know the sex of our baby, you might not want to read this post.

We waited until she was born to find out that May was a girl. There was something really fun about waiting, and Ronny and I both really loved having the surprise. I think it really drove other people nuts, though, because they wanted to know if they should buy us gifts in pink or blue. This time around we’re probably not going to have any shower (we had THREE for May) and I’m not expecting to receive a whole lot of gifts.

I wasn’t sure that I really wanted to know this time either, but the pragmatic reasons were there in my mind, and hubby kind of wanted to know. So, on the way to my 24-week ultrasound (supposed to be at 20 weeks, but it was one of those insurance situations) we made the decision to find out. As soon as we had made the decision, I suddenly couldn’t wait.

The ultrasound lasted nearly an hour, so we really got some great looks at our baby-to-be.

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Wowee.  Those pictures really uploaded big. Well, at least you get a good view. Which is something that took the ultrasound tech a long while to get. First the baby had its hands over the genitals, so I said, “It’s a boy!” Then, the legs were closed too tight to see, so I said, “It’s a girl!” We had told the tech that it was still a surprise for us, and we asked her to write the sex down on a piece of paper and put it into an envelope for us. I was about 86% sure it was a boy, as was Ronny, so this all kind of felt like a bunch of hullaballoo, but we thought it would be fun for May to open the envelope.

When we got home we decided to have the big reveal.  Nana and Baba were there, and we got Grammy and Papa on Skype.

Wait for it.

 

 

 

Wait for it…

 

 

 

 

Maysen opened the envelope and showed us this:

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We’re going to have a GIRL!!!

I can’t underestimate my surprise. I literally believed it was going to be a boy. This pregnancy is so different from the first. But Maysen’s going to have a little sister!!!

Now, we just have to get down to the business of finding a good midwife. Before you keep reading (MOM) I want you to know that we (I) have done a lot of research to come to this decision: We are going to have a home birth. At first Ronny was pretty hesitant, and when I say hesitant, I mean that he interrupted my first sentence about the topic as soon as he heard the words “home” and “birth” with a big, fat, matter-of-fact “NO.”

Harumph. I’ve always thought a home birth would be a really cool experience, and after having Maysen in the hospital, and having certain things about the experience that I would change if I could, I really wanted to make it happen. Part of the reason I tried to get him to consider it was that in our new city there are NO birth centers (unless you call the hospitals’ L&D departments, which they call “birth centers” to make them sound all pretty and nice, to actually BE a birth center). So the option is either hospital or home, and after asking for referrals and doing online research, mostly very technical and dependable facebook research, I discovered that the only real natural birth- and woman-friendly hospital in the area is St. Luke’s, and without traffic that’s at least a 30-minute drive. And gridlock traffic on the 101 is very, very, very frequent.

Obviously this is Ronny’s kid too so I knew that he had to be 100% on board for it to even be an option. Well, one night I managed to talk him into watching The Business of Being Born. (You can watch it for free on Netflix.) I thought maybe it would be something to at least open him up to discussion. He had to close his eyes through a couple of spots, but otherwise he watched the entire film.

I almost fell over in shock at the end when he actually said something along the lines of, “well, what do you think?” “What do I think? What do YOU think is the real question.” “Well, it’s your decision.”

We had a nice conversation about everything. No, it’s not my decision, it’s OUR decision and his opinion is (almost) as important as mine. Wink, wink. He actually said, “Let’s do it.” Whaaaaaat?!? As long as we (again, this means I, at least for the research part) do extensive research, interview midwives personally, and have a super-sound back-up plan — and, of course, this is all assuming that the baby is healthy and there are no known risks — he said he’s on board.

I thought he was just kindof being nice and trying to get me to stop talking about it so he could turn on Family Guy, but then a few days later I actually heard him tell someone that we’re going to have a home birth. Not ‘Nikki’s nuts and trying to convince me to have a home birth;, not ‘we’re kind of throwing around the idea of having a home birth’, but ‘we’re going to have a home birth’.

I…am…so…excited…about…this!

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